


Five times Ciri tried to do the impossible and the One time she managed to.

by artistsfuneral



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: 5+1 Things, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon Ships It, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Good Parent Jaskier | Dandelion, Happy Ending, Humor, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Song: Fair (The Amazing Devil), The Amazing Devil Lyrics, The Parent Trap - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt, and fails again and again, basically ciri tries to get them together, ciri is so done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26196892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistsfuneral/pseuds/artistsfuneral
Summary: It seems impossible! Ciri swears she has tried everything she can think of to get her fathers to admit that they are in love with each other. But they are absolutely oblivious!---or are they?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 199





	Five times Ciri tried to do the impossible and the One time she managed to.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [K5C8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/K5C8/gifts).



> [Check out my tumblr for more Witcher stuff!](https://artistsfuneral.tumblr.com/)

**Five times Ciri tried to do the impossible and the One time she managed to.**

Annoyed Ciri blew a strand of white hair out of her eyes. Her red cheeks were puffed up in anger and her glimmering green eyes seemed to spark tiny fires. She glared sharp daggers into the heads of her fathers. Her _fathers_ , who clearly were exactly that, but for some reason were too stupid to notice. She had been traveling with them for about three years by now and after _many_ painfully awkward moments she had decided to take matters into her own hands. The only problem was, that it was absolutely _impossible_ to get them to realize their feelings for each other! Or maybe they both knew, but for some godforsaken reason they just wouldn't admit them.

Ciri had tried everything – _everything_ – she could possibly think of and nothing had worked. She huffed out another annoyed breath and groaned out loud. Behind her, her father's mare looked at the princess with pity in her brown eyes.

She rolled her eyes. Pity couldn't help her, especially not if it came from a horse. In the end it seemed like nothing at all could help her.

It. Was. Impossible.

She let herself roll down from the log she was sitting on and fell into the tall grass of the meadow. Arms and legs spread out she closed her eyes and hummed in sync with the magic she felt flowing around her. After a few moments someone settled beside her in the grass. “You are pouting, little Miss. Why so?”

Ciri's eyes opened a slit and yet again she wished to have her father's amber eyes with the changeable pupil, just for the sake of angrily glaring at people like a feral cat. Next to her Jaskier smiled softly at the girl. “I do _not_ pout. Witchers don't pout and I also don't,” she grumbled, quoting her uncle Vesemir, that had scolded her more than once for it. Jaskier laughed, “Of course it is not like I have ever seen Geralt pout, so what do I know?” From across their camp the girl could hear Geralt say “I don't pout” and she rolled her eyes again.

This was exactly what she meant. Her fathers were already behaving like an old married couple, they never had acted differently. So why in Melitele's name were they unable to see it themselves? “Just... frustrated,” she answered as honestly as she could. And it was the truth, trying and failing every time to get her parents together was frustrating in the long run.

Her father hummed long and thoughtful. “Can we help you?,” he asked, like he always did – always ready to help if he could – when Ciri felt troubled. She sighed. _Yes go and just kiss already, because both of you are complete idiots!_ “No, I don't think so. I guess it is something that just takes time to get better.” Her father hummed again and started to move his fingers alongside the strings of his lute, “So many big thoughts, for such a small Miss.”

He caught on the humming of the magic around them and simple cords turned into a soft melody that Ciri never had heard before. She closed her eyes again and felt the soft pull of energy that flowed through her father's veins. Unlike her, both of them were immortal. Geralt due to his witcher mutations and Jaskier due to his elven blood that made him empathic for the wild magic around him. It was sickly sweet how perfect they were for each other and it made her failed attempts even more frustrating to think about.

She had started her plan easy, didn't want it to be too suspicious until she realized one day that they were both absolutely oblivious when it came to her ideas of romance.

She had started with...

**1\. There's only one bed.**

After their departure during winter Ciri had been ecstatic to spend as much time with Jaskier as possible, which lead to the three of them sharing a room in the inns they stayed in. The first five weeks on the path she _pestered_ Jaskier with question after question about his winter in Oxenfurt. Once her curiosity had been settled she started noticing the signs again.

The longing looks from across a tavern, the simple touches that were just a bit too long to be casual and the quiet nights under the stars that they spend right next to each other, simply living in the other's presence.

So fourteen-year old Ciri had developed a plan that may – or may not – could have been based on the romance novels she had read as a child, whenever she wanted to feel closer to her late mother, Pavetta, who had loved these books. Her plan was a classic one and so stupid that surely it would work.

So when they visited the next village with an inn, she quickly took manners into her own hands, took Geralt's coin purse with a dip of her head and a smile and said, “You take care of the horses, I will get us our rooms. We are filthy and I need a bath as soon as possible.”

No one could argue with that so she hurried her way into the tavern where she was greeted by a middle aged man with a look in his eyes that she new all too well after following Geralt and Jaskier on the path for two years. Mistrust and _worry_. As long as she played her cards right it would be an easy game. So she held up her nose a bit higher, flicked back her hair with a motion she had seen so often from Yennefer and strolled towards the counter as if the place was her own. She paused a moment, looking the man right into the eye, before she fluttered with her eyelashes and spoke, “I need two single rooms, two baths and four meals.”

The man raised a single eyebrow, trying to play unimpressed, but Ciri had learned quick from both of her fathers how to deal with people. She huffed, seemingly annoyed. “Have I stuttered, good man? I am forced by my parents to travel through these godforsaken lands with an obnoxious bard and a mutant. For a marriage! My. Marriage. So I am not up for any games, you understand?” The lie she had told so many times already slipped easily of her lips. As came the movement of holding up her left hand where she was wearing whatever fake sigil ring she was carrying with her that day. She threw her hair back again and put enough coins on the counter. It probably was a bit too much, but it made her come across like the spoiled brat she acted to be and it would make the baths appear faster in their rooms. “The mutant eats twice as much and doesn't sleep, so he needs no bed. If I now can have the keys?” She started tapping at the counter, knowing that she had already won the power game.

The man took the coins and slid over two rusted keys, then he pointed up a staircase. “First floor, at the very end, I will tell the wife to bring the tubs.” She smiled, took the keys and marched outside again. Now came the more difficult half. She walked back to her fathers who just left the stables and hold up the keys, explaining with hushed voices that she played the rich brat, so they knew how to act in front of the innkeeper. “Also,” she added and made a face, “they only had two single rooms left. You will have to share a bed I'm afraid.” She tried her hardest not to sound too pleased with herself.

But instead of getting the reaction she had expected (a blush, a stutter, maybe a nervous look) Jaskier just shrugged and took one of the keys. “No problem, we share all the time.”

Oh yes.

She kind of had forgotten about that.

*******

Thinking back on it, it really seemed like a stupid plan, after all she had seen them share a bed or a hayloft or even a single bedroll many times. But she had been thinking about that plan during winter, where everyone had their own room and Jaskier had been miles and miles away in Oxenfurt. She should have know then, that her next plan also wouldn't work, but back in spring she still had her hopes up. So when she had created her second plan she had held onto what she had learned from her mother's novels...

**2\. They have to go skinny dipping.**

The plan was pretty easy, once again. She just had to wait for the right moment, or more like – the right landscape. At the end of spring the weather was already warm enough to spend most of the day outside, sleeping eating, _bathing_. So when they found themselves in the middle of nowhere next to a lake that Geralt hadn't really taken notice from (which meant there were no monsters nearby) she decided to stop her horse and get down. Geralt noticed immediately and even Jaskier stopped his lute strumming and looked up confused.

Without saying a word Ciri started heading towards the water, leading her gelding down a small rocky path. When she reached the shore of the lake she took one long look at her fathers, that still sat on their horses, before she put down her bags and started to make a little camp. Behind her back she could hear them whispering. “What in the world is she doing, _Jaskier_?”, Geralt hissed and she didn't need to look around to see her father shrug. “Maybe it's puberty?”

“What the fuck is puberty?”

While Jaskier was searching for the right words to explain a grown man, who probably was a century older than him, what _puberty_ was (to be fair, growing up as a witcher, Geralt never really had the “normal” stages of becoming an adult), Ciri quickly got rid of most of her clothes and walked into the water. It was cold and made her shudder, but it wasn't too cold to be refreshing after days on horseback.

This time it didn't took that long for Jaskier to caught on. “You know what, Geralt, dear? That is actually a fantastic idea. It _is_ quite good weather for a swim.” And with that he followed Ciri down the path. Geralt trailed after him quietly grumbling.

Here again she noticed her mistake too late. Unlike her, who had spend most of her short life sheltered in a castle, her parents weren't prudish. They didn't even bet an eye on one another, while they undressed completely (Ciri quickly looked away, because _yikes_ ) and walked into the water. She let out a frustrated groan and went under the surface.

In her mother's novels the couple would sneak away in the night, hide their clothes in shrubs and it would be a romantic swim in the moonlight. For the two grown man she traveled with a swim in the middle of the day was nothing more than a efficient way of cleaning and refreshing themselves. She needed to take on harder measures if she wanted to see results. But what to do...?

**3\. Trying to make Geralt jealous.**

This time she had thought about it for weeks. Jealousy and possessiveness would definitely work! Not for Jaskier though, that she knew. The bard was a relentless flirt, but he didn't get jealous. When he noticed that whoever he was trying to woo already had a partner (that they preferred, Ciri knew about all the married men and women that Jaskier still bedded), he either backed off or convinced them to let him join.

Sadly he also didn't get jealous when it came to Geralt, rather he was encouraging the witcher to pursue whoever tried to flirt with the man. He only ever said anything, when it was either Yennefer or he noticed that the attention was unwelcome. No, Jaskier was not the right choice.

So Ciri decided to try and make _Geralt_ jealous.

The midsummer festivals were a great way for them to make coin, so despite of the fear of being recognized as princess Cirilla of Cintra, they would still go. Geralt would ask around for contracts and negotiate with merchants over whatever artifacts or herbs or daggers he found noteworthy, while Ciri would stay close, betting on street-games and playing against other children. Jaskier always found himself a place in the middle of the mass and would play song after song, just to return to them hours later with his purse full and a room for them to stay at.

Then they would go to whatever bar was nearest for drink and food.

That's were Ciri's plan started. Instead of doing her own thing, she sat right next to Geralt to eat, glaring at everyone that even dared to look in the witcher's direction. If her father noticed, he didn't say a thing. She didn't have to wait long for a man to approach Jaskier and painfully obvious start flirting with him. Everything was going well and as nonchalant as possible she tried to say, “He's been ogling Jaskier all day long, you know?” Geralt looked up from his stew and hummed.

Of course, Ciri didn't really know if the man had seen Jaskier before, but she just needed Geralt to think that he had.

“He seems rather persistent, don't you think?” She tried again.

Without looking up Geralt replied, “If Jaskier does want to be left alone, he will say so.” The girl did her best not to roll her eyes. Honestly _infuriating_. “He _has_ been getting _a lot_ of attention today, though. I have seen him flirting constantly.” Finally, Geralt set down his spoon, but instead of looking at Jaskier and the other man, he was looking straight at Ciri. “And exactly _why_ are you so interested in Jaskier's flirting today?”

Ciri gulped. Why- why did none of her plans work the way she imagined them to? Surely she couldn't been that bad at it, could she? Geralt glared at her and she opened her mouth, closed it again without saying anything. She looked at Jaskier and the- the _two_ men that were now hovering him. She looked back at Geralt, now it was everything or nothing at all. “Don't you get jealous?” Ciri blurted out, “He is always surrounded by other people but you never say anything. You can't lie, I _know_ you like him! So why not- _fight_ for him?”

Geralt was silent for a long pause, then he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Ciri,” he said calmly, “look at me. I am an immortal witcher that spends all of his day traveling, fighting monsters and being spat on. Jaskier... is of noble blood, I am sure you must have noticed. Even if what you've said was true, do you really think he would settle for a life like mine? For a mutant scum, that I am. One day Jaskier will find someone he loves more than he loves traveling with us. And who am I to keep him trapped?”

The witcher looked at her for a moment longer and then he returned to his stew as if nothing had happened. Ciri sat there, mouth agape and silently staring at her father in disbelieve. Did he really believe what he just had said? Did her father – the man who had taught her to fend for herself and be strong and confident about her skills – really have such low self-esteem that he didn't get jealous, because he thought he wasn't worth the bard's time?*

Geralt hadn't spoken out of self pity, Ciri knew how that sounded like, Geralt had spoken with such calmness and _sureness_ in his voice as if he had just told her that the sky was blue and the grass underneath her feet a plant.

Shocked she let go of the topic, just to look up and see how Jaskier was glancing at them concerned from across the room. She couldn't manage to smile. Jaskier stayed with them that night.

**4\. How do you tell someone you love them?**

The next time wasn't really an attempt, but it turned out to be one in the end.

They were camping out in the woods – during hot summer nights no problem – and Ciri's father was softly strumming his lute while Geralt was sharpening his swords. Ciri had been reading another romance novel (Jaskier had bought it her with a wink) when she closed the book and looked over at the two men, from where she was lying and asked, “Jaskier, how do you tell someone you love them?”

The reaction was immediate. Jaskier's fingers slipped and he played a rather gruesome chord that made the bard flinch. Geralt was so shocked that he dropped his wet stone. Both looked at each other with widened eyes before Jaskier carefully asked, “Why do you ask, little Miss?”

At her answer, “The main character of my book doesn't know how to confess her love for the princess,” both man audibly let go of a breath. Ciri blinked at their strange behavior in confusion (not knowing that both men were absolutely terrified of having _that_ talk* with her).

After regaining their composure, Geralt returned to sharpening his swords and Jaskier sat up a little straighter and looked at Ciri. “Well, the easiest way would always be to just tell them,” Jaskier started, “maybe take them to a place you both like and explain it. Honesty proves to be the best choice when it comes to love.”

Ciri considered it for a moment. “And when you are too scared to tell them? Or when they are more a person of actions,” she looked at Geralt for the last part. The witcher acted as if he didn't notice.

“Then actions are the best way. But don't just go and kiss a person, that's _terribly_ rude! You never know what other people are comfortable with or with what they may have had bad experiences. Try to find something that has meaning for them. I once knew a young stableboy that traveled three months just to buy some flower seeds from a merchant, because he knew the girl he was in love with loved these flowers.” He took a moment to think, before he started laughing, “Or maybe rescue them from a dragon, that always looks good!”

Next to him Geralt growled. “ _Don't_. Don't even think about it. No dragons. No rescuing missions.”

Ciri raised an eyebrow, but didn't press further. She was about to return to her book when she frowned. Sitting up she looked at her parents. “And how do you know that you love someone?”

Jaskier smiled at her softly, “So many big questions, let me take a moment to think about it.” To their surprise it was Geralt who answered first. “You just know,” he said. “Most people act as if it takes some kind of universally sign-” “Butterflies in your stomach,” Jaskier interrupted and Geralt nodded slowly. “But in the end you just know. You don't question it, it is so deeply anchored inside of you that there is no second guessing. That's how you know it's love.”

Amazed Jaskier stared at the witcher. “So you are a poet after all.”

Geralt snorted, trying to play off his embarrassment, “Sure and you wake up tomorrow as a witcher.” Jaskier's eyes widened.” _Heavens_ no, I dread the day I will wake up with white hair!” Ciri watched as the two grown man started bickering like the old married couple they actually were and smiled to herself. She put her head in her hands and stared at them, grinning. “I love you,” she said and it was as if the forest around her turned quiet.

Her fathers stared at her in shock, then the bard let out a high pitched squeal and literally threw himself on top of the fifteen-year old girl. He pestered her face with soft little kisses that made Ciri giggle. She was left a happy mess, lying next to Jaskier in the grass. “You know what,” Jaskier grinned next to her, “I love you both too.”

Ciri smiled like a madman at Geralt. The witcher raised his eyebrow. “C'mon Geralt! You have to say it back, that's only fair!” Jaskier demanded. Geralt rolled his eyes and packed his swords away. “Can't it be... like an understood ting?”, he grumbled.

Ciri gasped in fake surprise before pointing her finger at her father, “You're implying that you _love_ us!”

*******

Looking back at that summer night it was probably the closest she had gotten to getting her parents confess their love for each other. She knew of course, that they hadn't actually meant romantic love, but still, she kept that memory close to her heart.

Time passed and they kept on dancing around each other. Summer went and autumn came. Before she even noticed they were traveling towards Keadwen to prepare for the hike up to Kaer Morhen. That winter Jaskier was staying with them again.

**5\. Lock them up in a tiny space.**

When the little family didn't appear to dinner one evening Vesemir send out Lambert to look for the three of them. The youngest witcher didn't have to look around for long, when he heard pounding coming from the western halls of the keep. He followed the long staircase up to the third floor when he noticed Ciri sitting in a hallway.

She looked absolutely mad. It was as if the magic around her fumed with... _annoyance_? The girl noticed him coming from afar and they both nodded at each other. Lambert slit down the stone wall and sat next to her, now both of them staring at the shut door that was barricaded with a dresser.

“So... what is going on, kid?”

“I locked them into the storage room,” Ciri said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Shifting his gaze towards the door, it maybe was. Geralt was pounding so hard against the wood that it was trembling. “Do you do that often?” Ciri dared to roll her eyes at him. “Yes. It is my favorite past time to lock _idiots_ into broom chambers.” She spoke with so much sarcasm in her voice that every doubt of her being Geralt's child flew straight out of the window. The witcher laughed.

“Lambert? Lambert I know that you are there, open the fucking door!” Geralt cursed from behind the wood. Ignoring his brother, Lambert looked at the princess. “And why are we locking them away?” Ciri angrily blew a strand of her hair out of her eyes. “Because I have tried everything,” she said, “and they are still oblivious as _fuck_.”

“Young lady! I forbid you to use such words!” Jaskier yelled outraged. Lambert's witcher hearing made the next words audible to him. “See? I told you you should not swear around her, Geralt.”

It dawned Lambert after a minute of Ciri's silent fuming. “Wait. Is this because after twenty years of knowing each other they still won't admit that they are in love?” The girl threw her hands up in the air, “ _Yes_! You have no idea how frustrating they are!” Lambert snorted. “Are you kidding me? They are the worst. Come one, we can be angry a them over dinner together.” The witcher stood up and held out a hand for Ciri, who took it with a smile.

“And what about them?”

“Meh, just leave them there, Geralt will manage to break the door eventually.”

Ciri _grinned_.

*******

Ciri slowly blinked from where she was lying across the campfire. Around her the world had gone completely dark and she hadn't even noticed. Jaskier was still softly humming to the magic flowing around them. Geralt was meditating a few meters away.

“Jaskier? Can you sing a sad love song, please?” The bard chuckled in amusement. “Where does your bad mood come from, I wonder.” Ciri shrugged. “I'm not sure. But will you? Sing I mean.” He smiled softly, “you know I can't deny you anything, little Miss.”

The girl smiled and closed her eyes, listening as Jaskier began to play a soft melody. The magic around them caught on and soon Ciri's skin was prickling.

“Its what my heart just yearns to say

In ways that can't be said.

It's what my rotting bones will sing

When the rest of me is dead.”

The song was slow, sad, like Ciri had wanted it to be. She had never heard it before though and yet it was somehow familiar. “She promises to fight them all when it all becomes too much,” Jaskier sang, “And he, he curses at the world for leaving him behind and he's falling out of touch.” There was something off about the song. It was intimate, a love between a man and a woman, and yet, it seemed as if there was a third person. As if Jaskier was singing about someone else...

“How unfair, how unfair they'll sing as they dance across the darling rooftop wreck.”

She stared at the night sky, letting the melody wash over her, letting images flow freely in her mind.

“It's not fair, it's not fair how much I love you,

It's not fair cos you make me ache you bastard.

And she'll say

Oh how, oh how unreasonable

How unreasonable in love I am with everything you do...”

She heard her father shift as Jaskier ended the song. They looked at each other for a moment, before Geralt softly spoke, “It's about us, isn't it?” Jaskier smiled. “I wrote it after the mountain. It seemed unfair to me how much you loved Yennefer, while I was in love with you at the same time.” Geralt hummed softly in reply.

Ciri knew that something had happened between them before she had met Geralt, but they never talked about it. Jaskier had once told her, that for a long time he hadn't been aware of his immortality and when he finally was, it was as if the world around him slowed with the realization.

Ciri wasn't immortal and yet time seemed to slow down around her as she watched Geralt get up and sit down next to Jaskier, like he had done so many times before. Side by side, legs touching, simply existing in each other's presence.

And with a smile on her lips she realized that they knew. They just took their time.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:
> 
> Geralt's low self-esteem: THIS IS IN THE BOOKS! It is fucking canon and it totally broke me!!! Geralt doesn't get jealous, because he thinks that people (Yennefer in the canon case) deserve better!!! UGH STUPID BITCHER.
> 
> The talk: in the book Ciri doesn't get “the talk”, because it's medieval and people don't do that, there is no “protecting” children from knowing what sex is etc. but the IDEA of Geralt and Jaskier trying to explain it to Ciri is hilarious!
> 
> “Father”: they are both called father, because I felt like Dad or Papa seemed to modern. I know that Papa is also a really old world, but also... who would be who? So both of them are called Ciri's father. Makes it easier.


End file.
